Never too old to start changing the world

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Maybe the best way to introduce you to Dawn Schwarz is by telling you who she used to be.

She married, had children and left the workforce in her 20s to home-school her three children because it was important that religion be part of their education. She was a church-going woman, followed the rules, did what others told her to do and believed what they said was best.

She questioned little.

She was like many, many others.

By the time Dawn was 50 she was looking forward to two things: grandkids and retirement.

Then, she read a book: I am Malala: The girl who stood up for education and was shot by the Taliban.

If you don't know Malala Yousafzai, you should. Ten years ago at age 17 she became the youngest Nobel Peace Prize winner in history being an activist who stood up to the Taliban so that girls received education in Pakistan.

As a teenager.

Something in that story stirred something in Dawn's soul.

"It stirred my heart to read about things I can't understand with my American upbringing," Dawn said. "My responsibility is to educate myself. I read so many books on the refugee crisis."

My cousin Dawn Schwarz has found a new career and a new way of thinking in her 50s. She is no longer looking forward to retiring.

This from a 50-year-old woman looking forward to retirement and an easy chair.

What is more surprising is that this life-long Connecticut resident was moved by the experiences of young women a world away practicing a religion different from her own and then, even more shocking, that perhaps for the first time in her life - she did something about it.

Dawn went from observer to participant by volunteering to be a mentor at the Connecticut Institute for Refugees and Immigrants (CIRI).

It was an organization she didn't know existed, addressing a problem she was up until then not concerned about.

Dawn was assigned a family from South America to mentor. She went into their home for six or seven hours each week to help the kids with their homework, give the family moral support and help with their assimilation into a new culture.

"It was fun," Dawn told me. "You go into their homes and you become part of their family. They all spoke Spanish. I don't speak Spanish, but that is where I learned most of my Spanish. I taught them English, they taught me Spanish. It was a fun adventure. It was awesome and these people are such great people."

Dawn saw the immigration process first hand as the family struggled with the red tape.

She saw the roadblocks, frustrations and problems.

After a lifetime insulated from the rest of the world, Dawn opened her eyes and embraced it. She reeled off refugee crisis after refugee crisis around the world from Haiti to Afghanistan to the Middle East.

It was then that the cadence in her voice picked up, where you could hear the humanity, the concern dripping from each inflection.

Maybe, this is a good time to tell you that Dawn is my first cousin.

My Uncle Bob - my father's youngest brother - was her father. She was just 11 when I left home for good and our meetings were limited to family reunions and funerals. I knew she was deeply religious and involved with an evangelical church and if I had to describe her in one world it would be "unassuming."

So what I was hearing through the phone was something different.

She was thinking about what was for dinner, she was thinking about how to help someone become a citizen and change their life.

It was passion, it was outrage, it was concern for people she didn't even know.

"You know there is not a legal path for most of these people to get into the country. Our system is broken beyond repair," Dawn said. "That is frustrating and something most people don't know. For those that do have a path, we walk them through the process, but there is such a backlog. It is tedious and so heartbreaking."

Let's stop at "heartbreaking" for a second as Dawn lingered on that word.

You can't fake concern.

You can't fake outrage.

And how do you get up in the morning knowing you might be facing "heartbreaking."

I told Dawn she sounded different.

"The Dawn in the past believed everything she was told and didn't question it," Dawn said. "If you told me the sky was green, I didn't question it. Even in church, my beliefs have changed drastically. The old Dawn would have been opposed to immigration."

That volunteer job turned into a management job in human resources and operations and Dawn's trying to change the world a few families at a time.

And it started with a book by a teenager.

"I am so thankful that reading was my path," Dawn explained. "I read everything I could get my hands on. There is more than just life in America. Open up your brain and amazing things happen. It is a humbling experience."

So Dawn has some advice.

"I think the biggest thing is to open your mind and make a decision you might not be right about something," Dawn says, pausing to let it sink in.

Imagine if we all stopped for a second and considered we might be wrong, at least for a second.

"If you are refusing to admit you might not be right, you will never grow," Dawn said.

That's my young cousin folks, just coming into her own at the age of 58.

But she fears the future.

"Mass deportations is a big one," Dawn said. "I can't imagine waking up everyday thinking they might show up at my kids school."

Her organization had two plans for 2025, depending on the election. After Nov. 5, they pulled out the plan they didn't want to use They are expecting cuts in funding, layoffs and trying to find other streams of revenue so they can continue to do the work.

But in a sign of the times, Dawn's growth, her metamorphosis has come with a price.

Her brother opposes her mission at work. He does not see the issue the same way.

"I see how he feels about refugees," Dawn said. "I used to be more like that. We used to be close, but I can't stand for that. It is something I would cut ties over so we try not to talk about it."

But what she lost with her brother, she has gained with her younger sister, who is a teacher.

"It is amazing to have this relationship with her," Dawn said. "She is my best friend now."

I finally asked Dawn what the younger version of herself would think about who she has become at age 58.

"She would be worried that I was bound for hell," Dawn said. "She would put me on a prayer request charge and maybe I should be. Everyone has criticism about immigration and I'm not smart enough to know how to solve it. But the person in front of me is the person I'm called to love. They are just regular people who want to be loved. Listen, every face has a story if you take a minute to understand and learn the story."

Oh, and Dawn wants you to know one other thing:"I am no longer looking forward to retirement and grandkids," Dawn said, "well, some grandkids would be alright."

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Anti-college?

My father and many of my relatives growing up worked in a heavy machinery factory in Connecticut.

My mother was a housewife.

My brother became a toolmaker at another factory.

Their dream was to send me to college for a career that paid well and where I didn't have to work quite as hard.

It was their American dream.

They wanted their children to do a little better by getting a good education.

Yet, because of something called "the diploma divide," many people seem angry about the children of the working class who went out and made their parents proud with a college degree and career.

There is nothing wrong with being blue collar, but there is nothing wrong with being white collar either and statistics show a college education will ultimately provide a better standard of living.

I know it's more complicated than that, but why would anyone disapprove of those that got an education?

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Ken Tingley spent more than four decades working in small community newspapers in upstate New York. Since retirement in 2020 he has written three books and is currently adapting his second book "The Last American Newspaper" into a play. He currently lives in Queensbury, N.Y.